


Playing Pretend

by knockoutmouse



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Boss/Employee Roleplay, Breast Play, Canon Disabled Character, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Genderfluid Character, Headcanon: Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender is autistic, Healthy Relationships, Henchperson is called Rory, Internal Conflict, Kink Negotiation, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Orgasms, Name-Calling, Non-Consensual Touching, Nonbinary Character, Noncon Fantasy, Noncon touching aftermath, Oral Sex, Other, Recovery, Roleplay slutshaming, Safewords, Sexual Harassment, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, awkward sexual roleplay, self-kinkshaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knockoutmouse/pseuds/knockoutmouse
Summary: No actual noncon in the story, but the catalyst for the plot, which is discussed, is the background moment from the show in which Count Olaf is totally groping the Henchperson onstage during the pep rally in The Austere Academy.Rory has some internal conflict/confusion and attempts to deal with it by exploring kink with Fernald.Takes place during TAA.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop writing this pairing

The knock at the door startled Rory, who had admittedly been lost in thought rather than reading the words on the papers in front of them. 

They answered the door. It was Fernald. 

“Hey,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“Oh. Um. I’m…okay,” said Rory absently, closing the door after Fernald as he stepped inside.

“So they gave you a room and everything, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Rory, “since technically I’m faculty now.” They said it with a wistful look, almost as if they wanted it to be real. “I was actually just grading some of these essays.”

“You mean you’re really teaching the class?” said Fernald.

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, it’s basically the same as the class I taught in grad school, but I toned it down a little.”

“…grad school?” repeated Fernald, totally blindsided by this information. 

“I finished my masters in women’s studies a few years ago,” Rory said shyly, almost as if they were embarrassed. 

“You never said.”

Rory shrugged. “It never seemed relevant.”

“Congratulations…?” said Fernald uncertainly. “Since I didn’t know you at the time.”

“Thanks,” replied Rory, and Fernald’s response had coaxed an almost-smile from them, before the expression faded. “Wait,” they said, as Fernald’s earlier words caught up with them. “You mean you _don’t_ have a room? Where are you going to sleep?”

“Oh, you know. Under the bleachers,” said Fernald. “It could be worse.”

“It could be,” agreed Rory. “Or you could come up here and stay with me tonight, if you think Olaf won’t notice.”

Fernald gave a subdued smile. “We’ll see if I can get away.”

“I would _really_ like it,” said Rory significantly.

“Oh, is it that kind of day?”

Rory didn’t answer, but instead took on a pensive look. 

“Is something wrong?” asked Fernald. “Actually, I wanted to make sure you were okay, after the pep rally. After things got…a little weird.”

“Yeah,” said Rory. “About that. I was kind of trying not to think about it too much.”

“ _Are_ you okay?” asked Fernald in concern. 

“I’m not really sure.” Rory looked up at Fernald, their confusion evident on their face. “I mean, it seemed like Olaf was barely paying attention to what he was doing, but even so—”

“That wasn’t cool,” said Fernald. “And besides, I know you don’t really like to be touched by most people at all, even when it’s not in a totally inappropriate way.”

“Only I keep thinking about it,” said Rory quickly. “And it’s totally confusing and probably really messed up, but—” they broke off unhappily.

“What is it?” asked Fernald encouragingly, sitting down next to Rory on the bed and putting an arm around their shoulders. Rory leaned gratefully into Fernald, resting their head on his shoulder. 

“Well, of course I didn’t actually like it when Olaf did it,” said Rory slowly, unable to make eye contact with Fernald, “but thinking about the idea of it--like, of someone touching me like that when I didn’t want them to, is kind of—but I mean not actually for real,” they interrupted themselves quickly, and sat up to look anxiously over at Fernald. “That’s probably totally weird and wrong, isn’t it?”

“Actually, I think that kind of fantasy is fairly common,” said Fernald. 

“Yeah, no, I know it is, but that’s—you know, abstract,” said Rory vaguely.

Fernald continued patiently, “Are you saying that it’s something you’d like to try?” This was not where he’d expected this conversation to lead at all. 

“Um…I think so, if you’d be okay with it,” said Rory. “I mean, if not, I totally understand. I just…still feel really weird about the whole thing, and maybe it’s a bad idea, but, yeah, I think I would?” They looked at him tentatively, as if expecting a harshly negative reaction.

“Okay,” said Fernald calmly. “I’m fine with that. Tell you what. Right now, I have to go take care of a couple things for the boss, but I’ll come back later and we’ll talk about it some more. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Rory, with a small smile.

“In the meantime,” said Fernald, “You keep thinking about it, and what you do and don’t want to do, or even if you change your mind, all right?”

“You’d really be willing to try it?” said Rory.

“To be honest,” said Fernald, “I’m not a hundred percent sure. It’s not something I’d want to do for myself, but if you want me to—if you trust me that much—I think I’m willing to try it for you.”

Rory kissed Fernald softly on the lips. “You think about it too,” they said seriously. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I will,” promised Fernald. “I really do have to go now, though.”

“And I have papers to grade.”

“Yes,” said Fernald. “So I’ll see you later.”

The two of them didn’t part without one last kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, after dark, by the time Olaf was supervising SORE, Fernald had devised a plan for getting away for the rest of the night without arousing suspicion. When he took Olaf his coffee, he made a point of being overly friendly and trying to make conversation. (And in a moment of petty revenge on Rory’s behalf, Fernald had even rested his hook casually on Olaf’s knee, although he felt a little bit bad about it afterwards--two wrongs not making a right, and all that, even though Olaf had seemed mostly oblivious to it.) Olaf reacted as expected, becoming annoyed at Fernald’s friendliness and sending him away. 

The student curfew had passed, and Fernald sneaked through the school to Rory’s room upstairs in the staff quarters. He knocked quietly; they let him in and locked the door behind him. The room was dim, illuminated only by the low light of a table lamp. Fernald swallowed hard as he got a good look at Rory. They were wearing a garment that was, in all honesty, more a nightgown than a negligee, judging by the modesty of its cut, but it was silky and baby blue—

“I missed you,” said Rory, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I missed you, too,” said Fernald, draping his leather jacket over the back of Rory’s desk chair. “Did you get your papers graded?”

“I did,” said Rory, “but to tell the truth, it was pretty hard to concentrate.”

“Oh?” Fernald was quite interested. 

Rory shifted their position on the bed with a secretive half-smile. 

“Were you thinking more about what we talked about?” asked Fernald.

“Yes,” said Rory. “Were you?”

“Yes. Do you still want to?”

Rory nodded. “Do you?”

“I’ll give it a try,” said Fernald, taking a seat next to them. “But first we need to lay down some ground rules. So, basically, you want me to touch you, sexually, while we both pretend that it’s nonconsensual?”

“Yes,” said Rory.

“So we’ll need a safeword.”

“I’ve never used one before,” said Rory, “but I like the system of green for go ahead, yellow for slow down, and red for stop.”

“Like a traffic light,” said Fernald.

“Exactly. Any other stipulations?”

“Well,” said Fernald, “I’m not really sure about this part, since I’ve never done this sort of thing before, but I think if you were to start crying or anything intense like that, I don’t know if I could keep going, even though I’d know it’s just pretend. What about you?”

“Don’t get too rough,” said Rory. “And, um, no penetration? Since I’m not really sure how far I want to go with this, or even whether I’ll be okay with any of it,” they said.

“Understood,” said Fernald. “You promise you’ll absolutely tell me if you change your mind?”

“I promise,” said Rory.

“All right. One other question,” said Fernald. “I don’t know if this is a strange thing to ask, but do you want me to pretend to be...him, or--?”

“Not him,” said Rory quickly. “Not that. But...if you were someone I didn’t know…”

“A random stranger?” mused Fernald. “All right. Do you want to do this now?”

“Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day,” confessed Rory. 

“Do you want me to go out and come back in again?” asked Fernald.

“What? No?”

“I mean to get in character.”

“Oh. I guess if it helps?” said Rory.

“I’ll just go over here,” said Fernald, rising from the bed. On second thought, he removed his prosthetics and placed them on the desk, then went to go stand in the corner. 

“So we’re doing this?” he said. “Like, officially?”

“Yes.”

“Color?”

“Green,” said Rory. 

Fernald turned around and slowly approached Rory. 

“I am a stranger, walking down the street,” he said. “Oh, look, an attractive person whom I have never met before.”

“Oh,” said Rory flatly. “A handsome and sinister stranger...wait, why am I dressed like this if we’re in the middle of the street?”

“Good question!” said Fernald, and scrambled to improvise a plausible answer. “Uh...would you really go around dressed like that if you weren’t...uh…” Fernald couldn’t quite bring himself to say _asking for it_ , even though he knew he was only playing a role. 

“All right, hang on, hang on,” he said. “We’re not on the street, we’re in a--quick, give me a location.”

“A gas station!”

Fernald stopped. “What? A gas station? That makes even less sense.”

“I don’t know,” said Rory with a helpless shrug. “I was never very good at improv.”

“Okay,” said Fernald, rubbing at his forehead, “how about this? You’re a--a schoolteacher,” he said, in sudden inspiration. “A lonely, sexy schoolteacher, alone in your room, and I’m the headmaster who just came to pay you a visit.”

“Oh,” said Rory, considering. “I like that idea.”

“So we’re good?” said Fernald.

“Yes.”

“Color?”

“Green.”


	3. Chapter 3

Fernald tried to put on the imperious manner that he imagined a school headmaster would have. “You’re not properly dressed for receiving visitors,” he said.

“It’s ten at night. You shouldn’t come to a lady’s room unannounced like this.”

Fernald took his cue from this--he’d already figured that Rory was feeling more feminine today by the way they’d dressed. 

“A respectable lady wouldn’t answer the door dressed that way,” said Fernald. “But never mind that.” He figured he should make a move quickly; otherwise, he knew, with the two of them being actors, they’d end up getting caught up in the plausibility of the scenario again. 

“Yes?” said Rory in anticipation. “Was there something you needed?”

“I think you know what I need,” said Fernald, taking a step nearer. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” said Rory, with a hint of nervousness. Fernald couldn’t tell whether it was real or acted. 

“Color?”

“Green,” whispered Rory. 

Fernald nodded, and continued. “I think you do know,” he said. Not the most clever response, but it served its purpose and got them back on track. 

He took a final step forward, rested his forearm against Rory’s collarbone, and moved forward until they’d backed against the wall.

“But Headmaster,” said Rory, “this behavior is highly inappropriate. You should leave at once.” 

It made Fernald feel better to be addressed in the role he was playing--it wasn’t really _him_ doing this, after all--and he felt a bit more confident now. 

“I don’t think so,” he said. He pinned Rory to the wall--not too hard--and now he leaned in as if to kiss them, but instead took their lower lip between his teeth, tracing his tongue over it before biting down gently. 

Rory shuddered, but managed to look shocked when Fernald released them. 

“Don’t you dare,” they said, but there was a breathy quality to their voice that belied the words. As much as this felt strange and, yes, a little wrong, Fernald couldn’t deny that he was turned on seeing Rory’s reactions. 

He leaned in closer, lips almost touching their throat, and murmured, “I don’t think you can stop me,” before he kissed their neck. “I’ve seen the way you look at me in the hallways,” said Fernald, and kissed again, lower. “The way you look at _everyone_.” Another kiss. “Don’t lie. You want it. You’re _begging_ for it.”

Rory gasped, shifting against the wall, trying to get away--but not trying very hard.

Fernald’s other wrist came up to caress one of their breasts.

“No,” said Rory, breathing heavily, arching up into his touch. “Stop it.”

“Color?” said Fernald.

“Oh my God, green.”

Fernald rubbed both Rory’s breasts now, pressing harder. He could feel their soft fullness through the delicate satin stretched taut over Rory’s chest. 

Rory gave a soft whine. “No,” they breathed. “Let me go.”

“I bet you like it, don’t you?” taunted Fernald. Rory seemed to like the way he was talking to them so far, so he decided to try something a little bolder. “You really are a desperate little bitch, aren’t you, no matter what you pretend?”

Rory’s eyes opened wide; their expression changed infinitesimally, as if becoming more aware of their surroundings. 

“Aren’t you?” demanded Fernald, his voice becoming harsher. “Answer me, bitch.”

“Yellow,” said Rory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is okay. I feel suddenly...not confident about this last chapter.

Fernald’s hard expression melted away instantaneously and he took Rory into his arms. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” he said. He pulled them close to him and kissed their cheek.

“I don’t want you to stop,” said Rory. “Just dial it back a little with the talk, okay?” They kissed Fernald deeply, as if to demonstrate their willingness to continue.

“Are you sure you’re good?” asked Fernald.

Rory nodded. “Yes. Please. Green now, okay?” they said. “Please. Green.”

Fernald took a deep breath to get back in the right mindset. Then he caught Rory across the upper arms and pinned them against the wall again, holding them in place. 

He leaned down to press his face against Rory’s chest and kissed them through the satin, taking in a mouthful and tonguing their nipple through the cloth.

“Mmm.”

“You like that?” asked Fernald, releasing one of Rory’s arms and stroking their hip, moving around to their ass, but this time, his voice was more on the side of teasing than harshness. 

“No,” said Rory, “I don’t,” but they were biting their lip, straining to meet Fernald’s touch. 

Fernald repeated the action, while reaching down to lift the lacy hem of Rory’s nightgown, brushing over the the side of their knee where he knew they were ticklish.

“What are you going to do to me?” breathed Rory.

Fernald moved his wrist up Rory’s thigh, moved higher--he was pleased to find they weren’t wearing panties. 

“You’re wet for me,” said Fernald, rubbing his forearm between Rory’s legs. “You can’t hide it.”

“Don’t,” pleaded Rory, lifting their hips up to rub against him.

Fernald wished fleetingly that he was better able to please them--having hands and fingers would be helpful right about now-- but there was no sense thinking of that. Besides, Rory seemed to be enjoying themselves, slick with arousal and grinding against Fernald’s arm. 

“I’m going to make you come now,” said Fernald. 

Rory shook their head no, but gave a subdued moan while continuing to move against Fernald. 

“Yes,” said Fernald. “That’s to make you understand who’s in charge here. I’m going to get you off whether you like it or not.”

Fernald pushed Rory a few steps to one side and made them sit on the windowsill, then dropped to his knees, parting Rory’s legs and pushing up their nightgown. They gasped as he ran his tongue over their labia, first outside, then slipping in between.

“No, please,” said Rory weakly, then cried out as Fernald turned his attention to their clit, tracing circles. He held Rory in place, spreading their legs further and teasing them with the lightest touches of his tongue until they were pleading incoherently, raising their hips to prolong the sensation of Fernald’s mouth against them. 

“N-no,” Rory said shakily. “Please don’t make me--” They cried out, unable to finish the sentence as Fernald lowered his head and flicked the tip of his tongue over their clit until they came. 

Almost immediately, Rory sat up and kissed Fernald hungrily while scrambling to undo his fly. 

“Fernald, please--need you now--”

He knew this meant their game had ended, and he obliged, letting his pants fall to the floor. Rory took hold of him and then he was inside them, Rory’s legs around his waist as he drove into them, one arm around their shoulders, the other cradling their head, both to hold them close and to avoid slamming them against the window. Rory was moaning, their fingers digging into his back, and he could feel them tightening around him. 

“Come on,” they pleaded, “almost, just a little bit more.” Fernald did his best to hold himself back until Rory was coming again, then Fernald let himself go, resting his face against the top of Rory’s head and holding them tightly. 

When the two of them came back to their senses, they separated and moved to the bed. They climbed under the covers together, and Fernald threw his arms around Rory, stroking their back, petting their hair, kissing them indiscriminately, overcome with a wave of affection and something like protectiveness. 

“How was that?” asked Fernald. “Was that what you wanted, or too much?”

“Oh my God.”

“You know I didn’t really mean it when I called you those names, right?” said Fernald anxiously. “I just thought you might like it, but…”

“No, it’s okay,” said Rory. “I know that. And I didn’t know I wouldn’t like it. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Me either,” admitted Fernald. 

“Thank you for trying this with me,” said Rory. “Are you sure it wasn’t too much for you?”

Fernald rested his head against Rory’s shoulder, felt their arms close around him, hand lightly rubbing his back. He sighed; suddenly, their touch felt like just what he needed after the scene they’d played out--only now did he realize how exhausted he felt, totally drained of energy. 

“I liked it more than I expected to,” he said honestly. “At first, I was worried it might be weird, but that was--you were--wow.” He looked up at Rory and kissed them. “I would definitely do it again sometime if you want to.”

Rory smiled sleepily, still holding Fernald close. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
